


Return Engagement

by Alara J Rogers (AlaraJRogers)



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-12
Updated: 2009-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-11 14:03:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlaraJRogers/pseuds/Alara%20J%20Rogers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/17322">Q, Interrupted.</a> Q has unfinished business with Kirk, who thinks it's kind of ridiculous to be resurrected just because an entity is still upset about a failed sexual encounter, but he'll play along. The actual pairing is Kirk/Q (both m/f and m/m); Kirk/Spock and Picard/Q implied in background. Also, kind of segues into the new movie timeline at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Return Engagement

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle 8. Prompt: "Q/any, genderplay."

The world faded in around Kirk, and he was, improbably, in a cabin on some planet he'd visited once for shore leave. He felt bitter disappointment, then. Sure, he was alive, but this meant that the whole thing -- the future Enterprise captain, the battle with the El-Aurian madman, saving millions of lives -- making a difference -- it had all been just another one of the Nexus' visions.

"Damn," he said. "I really thought that one was real."

"Oh, it was," an unfamiliar male voice said.

Kirk turned. There was a tall, dark-haired man, approximately in his fifties or so, sitting on the bed, wearing the same uniform Picard had worn. "Excuse me? Who are you?"

"Call me Q," the man said. "And really, you should have more faith in your own perceptions. And less in your imagination. Why would _you_ dream up Jean-Luc?"

"If this isn't actually the Nexus, then I'm dead," Kirk said. "And I've never heard of either heaven or hell being a shore leave cabin with a strange fellow in it."

"You _were_ dead," Q said with an airy wave. "I fixed it."

"Fixed it. Exactly how did you do that?"

"Well, you know. Visualize the desire, snap the fingers, and... here you are. It's a small talent of mine." He stood up, the humor leaving his face, his eyes growing intense. "We've got unfinished business, Kirk. I've been waiting all these years for you to get out of that horrible abandoned amusement park thing so I can get what you owe me, and what do you do but go and die on me? I couldn't have that."

"I'm fairly sure I've never met you," Kirk said.

"This refresh your memory?" Q said, and snapped his fingers. In a flash of light he vanished and was replaced with a beautiful woman, almost as tall, same coloring but younger-looking so no grey in the dark hair, same full lips but prettier on her, same intense eyes, and now Kirk recognized her.

"Anastasia!" he said, stunned. This explained a lot... but no, really it didn't explain anything. The entity he'd called Anastasia the night they'd tried to have sex, before her young son teleported in and identified himself as Trelane of all beings, might well have had the power to resurrect him... but what did she think he owed her, all these years later?

She snapped her fingers again and returned to the male form. "I like Q better," he said. "I told you you could make up a name for me because I'd gone back in time to when I hadn't made first contact with humanity yet, to meet up with you, and I couldn't have my name showing up in any historical records before my appointment with Jean-Luc at Farpoint Station. But in this time period, humans call me Q."

"Well, I'm grateful to you for saving my life... Q... but what is it you think I owe you? We only met twice, as far as I know, and the first time you were a glowing ball of light and your son had just tried to kill me."

"Yeah, you'll be pleased to hear he's an adolescent now and hasn't the faintest interest in you anymore. As for what you owe me... how soon you've forgotten, Kirk." He took a step forward. "Remember? Oh, you were all over me when you thought I was just a mystery woman, but as soon as you found out I was a superbeing with an irritating kid, you _left_ me hanging, so frustrated I had to actually go hit up my ex for sex, and believe me, that represents a truly dire level of frustration. You owe me a good fuck, Kirk."

Maybe having spent 80 years, or eternity, in a fantasy world he hadn't been able to escape no matter how hard he tried to disbelieve in it had broken Kirk's sense of disbelief in general, but oddly, while he recognized the utter surreality of a godlike entity in the shape of a man resurrecting him to demand sex because of an encounter nearly 120 years ago with the same being in female form, which had been ruined when the entity's son, the retired Squire of Gothos, had shown up in the form of a child and demanded to know why his mother was playing with his toy... it didn't actually faze him. He'd been dead. Maybe nothing could faze him anymore. "You'd have more luck with that in that other form," he said. "I usually prefer to share intimate relations with women... or beings who look like women, anyway."

"Because Gary Mitchell and Imaginary Finnegan were so very, very feminine. Oh, and aren't you forgetting Spock?" Q shook his head with a tsk. "T'hy'la for twenty-odd years and the moment he doesn't show up to the boring launch of a new starship that ends up with you thrown into a pocket outside time for 80 years, you forget all about him."

"I loved Spock. And Gary. I don't love you. If I'm going to have sex with a man, it's generally a man I love."

"So you were in love with Finnegan, then?"

"No, but he was imaginary and I had something to prove," Kirk admitted.

"Well, I've got something to prove with you."

"I'm not imaginary."

"How do you know? I could have created you, you know. Perhaps you're merely a simulacrum, a recreation of the original Kirk."

Kirk considered that. "Maybe. But if that were so, then you've granted me free will for a reason, and my free will tells me that I don't find the notion of two men together particularly pleasing unless one of them is a _very_ dear friend. If I'm going to go with casual fun, I prefer heterosexuality."

"Oh, that's easily solved," Q said, and snapped again.

He wasn't any different. But Kirk felt odd. He looked down at himself... to see breasts under a gold miniskirted uniform from his early days on the _Enterprise_, and great legs in high uniform boots underneath. _This_ fazed him. "Put me back right now!" he snapped.

"Oh, but you're so fetching this way. Admit it, don't you like feeling young and attractive again?"

"I've never been a young attractive _woman_." He poked at the breast, nonplussed that he could feel it. This was worse than being in Janice Lester's body, because it almost felt natural.

"They're quite real. If you want to open up your top and check, feel free," Q said, smirking. "Don't mind me. I created them, so it's not as if you'll be showing me anything I haven't seen."

"I don't care if they're real or not. I want to be a man again. Look, are you serious about wanting to go to bed with me?"

"Absolutely. I've heard more than enough from my fellow Q about how I couldn't even get Jim Kirk, the Stud of Starfleet, to finish fucking me. If I have to bring you back from the _dead_ to get the rest of what you promised... well, I think I've been waiting quite long enough."

"I have to believe you want my willing consent to this. I mean, it's hard to imagine why such a highly advanced being as yourself would want to rape a mere human."

"I have no intention of raping you, Kirk. You were begging for it the last time I had you... well, until Trelane showed up and ruined the mood."

"You were in your female form then."

"Oh, are we back to this 'I don't fuck men unless it's True Love' thing? You fucked a simulacrum of your Academy tormentor on a shore leave planet that was trying to fulfill your fantasies, because you thought it would make you feel even better than finally punching his lights out did."

Kirk took a deep breath. "What happens after we're done here?"

"That depends on whether I get what I want or not," Q said darkly.

"No, that's not how it's going to work. If you want me willingly, without coercion, you can't threaten to do something unpleasant to me if I refuse you. And you're going to have to turn me back into a man. I'm just not going to say 'yes' to anything as long as I'm not in my proper body."

"Oh, fine," Q groused, and snapped again. Now Kirk was himself once more. "And very well. Once we're done here, I'll send you to Spock." He smiled. It was a dangerous-looking expression. "Not right away, of course. Spock's got things to do right now. I'll send you forward to meet him at the point where ten years or so have passed for him."

"Will he be alive?" Kirk demanded.

"Alive, well, living on a Vulcan colony world and teaching little Vulcan kids about the life of Surak and how to avoid temporal anomalies. Or something like that. But whether you show up in his home, in private, dignity intact, or naked in the middle of the street on the main thoroughfare of their capital city... _that_ depends on what I get from you."

Kirk laughed. "I can accept that." Now that he was back in his own body, his confidence had returned. Really, if you thought about it, there was something insanely flattering about a superbeing resurrecting him so they could finish a sexual encounter from over a century ago. Had he really been that good? He walked over to the entity, putting his hands on the being's hips, and looked up. "I'll make a deal with you," he said. "I prefer to be in my own body, and I'd like you to be in the Anastasia form. But you seem very interested in staying in this male form you've got now. So let's make a trade. I'll suck your cock, and after you come, you take the female form you had the last time we were together and you let me fuck you."

Q's eyes had dilated, and his breathing was slightly ragged. Interesting how exact his replica of a human body was. Trelane had had moments of not looking quite real, but Trelane had been a juvenile of the species, apparently, and this one was very much an adult. "And they say James T. Kirk wasn't good at compromise," he said hoarsely, which was funny because Kirk had always heard the opposite, but maybe his rep had altered since he'd been presumed dead. "Consider it a deal."

"Lay down on the bed."

Q looked down at the carpet, and then back at Kirk, eyes amused. "There's a nice thick rug down there. Looks comfy."

"Then lay down on that. But get horizontal. I'm not kneeling to do this."

Q snapped his fingers, and then he and Kirk were both naked and Q was lying on the bed. Kirk shook his head. "No, no, no. We're going to take our time with this," he said. "Give me my clothes back, and put something on yourself that I can take off you easily."

"What exactly is the point of wearing clothes just to remove them?" Q asked, and while his tone was all wrong it was so much like something Spock would say that Kirk had to grin.

"Anticipation," he said. "We had a two hour walk on a beach last time before we got down to business. I think you can handle a little foreplay this time."

He found himself wearing the old uniform, from the first five year mission, and from the skin on his hands and the shape of how he filled out that uniform, apparently the body he'd had then, too, young and strong. Q's apparent age had changed as well; the grey and the faint lines on his face were gone, his hairline had come back from receding and his hair thick and full, so he was approximately the same apparent age as his female form had been. Now he was wearing a v-necked tunic with an apparent fastener at the side, and loose silken pants that didn't do much to hide his erection.

Kirk sat down on the bed and pulled Q's tunic open, letting his hands roam over the entity's chest. Anastasia had had very sensitive nipples, so much so that he'd thought she was going to come a few times just from him sucking them. He wondered if the entity's male body had any relationship to the female one, and tested it by teasing Q's nipples. The sudden catch of breath told him that he was onto something. He lay down on the bed next to the being and bent his head to Q's chest, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking while he ran one hand over Q's leg and over to his cock. Q breathed heavily. "You're good at this."

"I've had lots of practice." For a few minutes he toyed with Q's legs and groin through the silk pants, then slid a hand under the pants' waistband and directly caressed the needy skin underneath. Q moaned.

"Are you sure I can't make our clothes go away?"

"Yours, sure, if you want."

The pants vanished. Kirk ran his hand over Q's thighs, down to his balls and then back up to his cock. Q's head was turned toward him, watching him but with unfocused eyes and an expression lost in pleasure. When Kirk finally took Q's cock into his mouth, he continued to play with the entity's nipples with one hand and his knees and thighs with the other. If this being had waited 120 years to finish what they'd started way back then, he figured he'd best try to live up to that. And while he didn't find this male body nearly as arousing as he'd found the female form, the fact that he'd spent his entire career telling gods and super-beings that he would not bow down and worship them, and now he had one moaning under his hands and mouth, so fixated on him that he'd brought Kirk back from the _dead_ just for sex, couldn't help but turn him on. Q was panting and gasping, and Kirk couldn't help but think about what Q had agreed to do for him when it was his turn. He drew his head away for a moment to lick his fingers, and then reached down between Q's legs as he returned to sucking, sliding between Q's cheeks down there and using the wet finger to play with Q's ass. Q gasped, and arched up, and finally came, crying out.

Q's eyes came back into focus on Kirk's face. "Ready for your turn?" he asked.

"Very much so."

Q lifted a hand, languidly, but didn't bother to snap his fingers. The gesture itself seemed to trigger the transformation, and her female form lay naked on the bed, looking just as mussed and post-orgasmic as the male form had. Kirk's clothing had disappeared at the same time. Obviously Q wasn't in the mood for prolonging anticipation any further. Fortunately neither was Kirk. He slid up onto her body and reached down to guide himself in, as she grabbed his asscheeks and tilted her hips up to meet him. There was no resistance at all; she was so wet he buried himself fully in a single thrust.

The last time they'd done this, he'd known she was a mystery woman, not human, possibly from a more advanced race; he hadn't found out she was a superpowerful entity until Trelane had barged in on them and called her "Mum". This time he knew this was a being on the same level as the Organians, the Thasians, Apollo, any number of the godlike entities he'd met in his time... and she _wanted_ him. That might have put him off a bit, back in his younger days, but he was older and more experienced now, and all the knowledge did was make him harder, hungrier for her. She'd liked it hard and wild last time, and her tastes didn't seem to have changed in a century; she moaned with abandon as he pounded her, fingers digging into his asscheeks or shoulderblades or the small of his back, and gasped out, "Don't stop don't stop don't stop don't you _dare_ stop or so help me I will turn you into a Belzoidian flea, Kirk, don't stop." Not that he was in any danger of stopping. He thrust harder, so violently he'd be afraid he was hurting her if she wasn't so obviously desperate for it, and when she came wildly around him he kept going, pounding into her convulsing pussy until he went over the edge himself and burst inside her.

It didn't stop.

He'd come, and come hard, but he was still hard, still needing. For a moment he blinked, disconcerted, and then shrugged it off. Q was obviously using her powers on him. Plainly she wanted more, and he tried never to leave a lady unsatisfied (or, for that matter, any partner, since even in female form it was entirely questionable as to whether this being counted as a lady or not), so he kept going, varying the tempo. Hard and fast, shallow and _very_ fast, teasing her, slow and deep, and then back to deep and hard and fast. Again and again she came, screaming. Orgasm swept through him again as well, once, twice, delicious bursts of pleasure that should have satisfied him and ended it but they didn't so he had to keep going. Kirk was actually starting to get nervous. He wasn't tired, his muscles weren't cramped or wearing out, and he felt like he had enough energy to fuck all night, literally... but none of that was normal for humans, and while he knew she was probably doing it, he worried as to how long it actually took to satisfy a goddess. "How long... were you planning... this to last?" he panted. "You're... making it... keep going, aren't you?"

She groaned and thrashed, completely beyond coherence, and he wasn't even sure she'd heard him. Her eyes were open but completely unfocused. Between gasping breaths and cries of pleasure, she moaned, "oh fuck me fuck me don't stop oh please" and then she grabbed his hips and held him against her with impossible strength, every muscle in her body going rigid, and she screamed "Jean-Luc!"

He couldn't move, pinned down against her as she tightened around him inside in pulses so powerful it felt like she was fucking him even though neither of them were moving their hips. It was too much. With a groan, Kirk exploded inside her again, this time in slow motion, feeling like he was trapped in one of those time-stopping wormholes at the moment of orgasm, so the wave of pleasure and the muscle contractions lasted and lasted, moving through his body with deliciously agonizing slowness.

He collapsed on top of her. This time, finally, he was spent, utterly exhausted. He lay on top of her for several minutes, feeling her ragged breathing slowly returning to normal.

"So, worth the wait?" he finally asked.

She blinked, as if she'd forgotten he could talk and was somewhat surprised that he was, and then laughed. "Oh, you were delightful, Kirk. We couldn't have done all _that_ back before I could admit my identity to you."

He nodded, and rolled off her. She'd made his clothes vanish; he was going to have to get her to rematerialize them. He looked down at her sweat-sheened body, and a sudden devilish impulse made him ask, "Jean-Luc? That's the name of the _Enterprise_ captain who pulled me out of the Nexus, isn't it? Jean-Luc Picard."

Q scowled at him. "You go see Spock and stay out of my personal business," she said, and waved at him as if motioning him away.

And then he was in a small, austere, Vulcan-decorated bedroom, a man in late middle age again wearing the uniform he'd worn the day he died, and a very aged Spock was sitting on the bed in a meditation posture. Spock's eyes snapped open and he stared. "_Jim_?" he said, as if he feared he might be seeing a ghost.

"Spock," Kirk said, and strode forward so he could take his friend by the hand and prove his reality. "It's really me, Spock. I know, you probably heard I was dead, but I just had a run-in with this entity called Q, who turns out to be Trelane's mother or father or something like that, and... you know, you're not going to believe this story so why don't I just leave it at that." He grinned.

"Q is responsible for... you, being here?" Spock was looking at him with delighted shock, actually smiling. "I had no idea he was capable of such altruism. I'm sure there must be something he wants."

"I think I already took care of what he wanted," Kirk said, and grinned back. "So. Spock. What're you doing on a colony world?"

Spock lost the smile, his eyes growing sad, almost haunted. "There's much I need to tell you, Jim..."


End file.
